


Hey There, Sunshine

by livvylive



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Open Relationships, pure self-indulgent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 12:58:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvylive/pseuds/livvylive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluff plus a little bit of relationship exploration for John Hancock and my asexual demiromantic OC, Thorn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey There, Sunshine

"Hey there, sunshine."

Thorn glanced up from the map spread upon the desk in front of her to see Hancock standing at the door to the small shack they had claimed as theirs. There was a broad smile on his creased and wrinkled features, and his black eyes were warm. He was, as always, wearing his tricorn hat and old, faded clothes, but as she watched he began unbuttoning the jacket to drape it across the chair nearest the door. His movements had a certain slow laziness to them that Thorn had come to associate with his mentats highs. The mint-like chems made everything seem simple, he'd told her once, and when the world was so simple it was easy to relax.

Once he was left in the ruffled shirt he wore beneath the red and blood-stained jacket, Hancock smiled at Thorn again and sauntered over to join her by the desk. The shirt, open enough to reveal a swathe of surprisingly well-muscled chest, had once been white but time had turned it into an aged mottled brown. There was a long tear at the seam where the sleeve met the shoulder. It would be an easy thing to patch, but Thorn knew Hancock would never mend it himself. The ghoul tended to take the same approach to personal matters as he did to running his city: leave things be, save for small touches here and there, until it's time for someone to die. Once he came down from his high and started searching for something to keep his mind away from the shadows that lurked at the back of his thoughts, she would remind him of where he'd put his sewing supplies.

"Hancock," she greeted him warmly. All angles and sharp edges, Thorn's features weren't easily given to warmth and friendliness. The small smile that she offered her lover was a rare thing, made rarer by the fact that it reached her eyes and warmed her usually icy gaze. Where another person might have embraced their lover, or taken their hand or kissed their cheek, Thorn smiled. It was a smaller gesture, but the weight it carried was just the same. "How was Magnolia?"

"Flexible." Hancock was much less reserved in his displays of affection. Early on they'd learned where the lines that could never be crossed were. It had been a slow process, full of mistakes and tension and old hurt, but they'd made it through. In public it was hard to tell the mayor and the mercenary were even friends. At most, a careful watcher could spot their hands intertwined on a quiet night at the Third Rail. In private there was more that was acceptable, and Hancock made the most of it. His fingertips were warm through the thin fabric of Thorn's cotton shirt as he let them dance across the top of her back before coming to a rest on her shoulder. He held he in a sort of half embrace, gentle and open as he took care not to make her feel trapped. That care was one of the things he'd had to learn, just as she had tried to learn to trust his arms around her. It had taken hurt and heartache and regret, but now he could hold her and she could lean lightly into his touch without tensing. "She sends her regards. Said you should join us sometime." His husky voice was rich with amusement, and Thorn didn't have to turn to know his sunken eyes were sparkling with mirth. "I told her maybe that ain't the best idea."

Thorn's reply was little more than a noncommittal grunt. No reply beyond that was really needed. Knowledge of Magnolia's invitation was enough to make her uncomfortable, but she trusted Hancock well enough to know he was just sharing it lightly. Once it might have caused her to shut down. Now? It was simply something that had been said. Her back cracked with a satisfying _pop_ as she rolled her shoulders, careful not to dislodge Hancock's arm. "Do you need anything else?" she asked perfunctorily.

Their relationship was hardly one that conformed to any sort of standard set of expectations. Thorn and Hancock both knew it. but they were comfortable. Sex was off the table. Once he'd understood the way the thought of being touched that way again, even by someone she'd come to feel something for, made Thorn's skin start to crawl and pulled dark memories to the forefront of her thoughts, he'd halted the suggestive jokes and gently wandering hands. With her blessing, he'd eventually turned elsewhere to satisfy what needs neither Thorn nor the chems could fulfill. He did so with Thorn's blessing. She had something with Hancock, something that was hard for her to describe, and it made her _happy._ Happiness was something new to her. Something precious. So as long as he was happy too, and she didn't have to give him up, she didn't mind that sometimes his hours were spent in someone else's bed. Magnolia was the one he spent the most time with, but there were other men and women he sometimes sought out. Out of respect for her, and a little worry that her reassurances could never quite quiet, Hancock tried not to stay with any one person for too long. Truth was, Thorn didn't care. As long came back to her and was happy, she was content.

"Nah. Might take a nap once the 'tats wear off." Warm, weathered lips brushed Thorn's cheek, pulling another soft smile from her. The affection Hancock offered so freely, no matter how small it was, never ceased to surprise her. It wasn't something the mercenary had been accustomed to before, but it was nice. It was comforting, really, to know she wasn't alone in anything anymore. "You could always join me, sunshine. I'll be a real gentleman, I swear."

"I'm sure you would be," Thorn replied dryly, glancing at him. After a moment's hesitation, she rushed her lips against his cheek. The restrained display made Hancock grin goofily. "I have things to do. Danial is insisting on an expedition to recover the power armor those raiders in the ironworks scavenged."

Ghouls, Thorn had decided long ago, shouldn't be able to pout. Hancock, at the very least, shouldn't be able to pout so very well. More importantly, Thorn herself shouldn't be so swayed by his pouts. Despite her firmest convictions, however, she found herself moving away from the desk when the mayor began to pout and tug gently at her arm. She made a small show of resisting, but for all his wrinkles and scars Hancock could do a remarkable impression of a kicked puppy.

And for all her own carefully-built walls, Thorn couldn't resist him.


End file.
